All I Want to Know Is a God Damned Thing
by trufaith1388
Summary: A somewhat angsty character study for Quinn during season two. Suggested Faberry.


Quinn Fabray is about to break. Everything is falling apart around her and as soon as she gets a tentative hold on one thing another one crumbles. She'd thought last year had to be the lowest point in her entire life. I mean, pregnant, abandoned, homeless, _alone_. It didn't get any worse than that, right? She was wrong. Being back in her mother's home and back on top of the school _and_ the Cheerios pyramid should've been perfection, redemption even. But it wasn't. Every single day it gets just a little harder to breathe and everything feels like it's happening all around her and to her and she can't get control of any of it. In the beginning she'd tried to blame Rachel because when anything went wrong in her life Berry was usually to blame. Then after a while she almost forgot about Rachel completely, at least that's what she told herself, what she tried to convey to everyone else. Then suddenly she found herself in the middle of an auditorium practically screaming at the girl over _Finn fucking Hudson _of all people. And, while that wasn't when everything started to collapse, it was when something in her broke and now she's on the verge of giving up altogether.

She has no idea how she got here or when things stopped making sense, all she knows is that she's here now and as far as she can tell there's no real way out of this. She'd spent all summer gearing herself up for her return to McKinley, convincing herself that it was a new start, that she could walk though those doors on the first day of her junior year and be whoever the fuck she wanted because what could anyone else really do about it anyway. That she didn't always have to have some superficial identifier; Quinn Fabray the Rich Girl, Quinn Fabray the Head Cheerleader, Quinn Fabray the President Of The Celibacy Club, Quinn Fabray the Quarterback's Girlfriend. She would stop being known for her status and start being known for who she actually was; Quinn who loved to draw, who was smart and witty, who dreamed of one day living on the beach, who had a weird affinity for Green Day and reruns of Quantum Leap and console RPGs. And fuck anyone who thought less of her for it. But she was weak.

Nearly the second she set foot in that place it was like something washed over her; her past, her neatly mapped out future, skewed perceptions and expectations, the ease and familiarity of blindly doing what you're told, the deep, demanding timbre of her father's voice. It took her less than a week to cave. As soon as she saw the Cheerios sign-up sheet it was like something inside her gave up, as if the steam engine of confident willpower that had been steadily building speed all summer had suddenly thrown the breaks and was quickly screeching to a halt. The next thing she knew she was in the gym in front of Coach Sylvester pleading her case to be restored to her former glory, the words spilling from her lips like poisoned liquid. Then she was stabbing Santana in the back just to get a leg up in some ridiculous high school hierarchy that wouldn't mean shit the day after graduation. The fight in the hall afterwards shook her, added a little fire to the steam engine, reminded her of who she had been before, who she was quickly trying to become again, and how often she'd despised her own reflection over the years. The two sides of her started warring; the perfect, obedient, daughter, still loyal to a father who'd left her in his rearview, and who she really was, who she could be, who she desperately needed to be. And just when the war was about to tear her apart Sam Evans had shown up out of nowhere and tipped the scales. Sam, who was cute and already becoming popular and practically throwing himself at her. But, most importantly, who was young and naïve and who could be easily manipulated, easily controlled. He reminded her of the satisfaction that came from being a puppet master, controlling someone else the way her father controlled her, being able to shape their path to whatever she saw fit. So she quickly gave in to Sam and again the brakes squealed. Then everything started to blur like it always had before as the weeks quickly turned into months. She floated between Sam and school, giving orders and keeping herself at arm's length from everything. Everywhere she looked she saw people breaking out of their own paths and trying to take control, trying to change things, and failing miserably. She watched Brittany and Santana start to crumble, she watched Rachel trying desperately to hold on to a Finn that didn't want to be held, she watched Kurt get swallowed up by the shitty hand God had dealt him, she watched Finn scramble to hold on to his precious popularity, she watched Schuester floundering pathetically with his personal and professional lives and anyone who happened to get caught in the crossfire of them, and the steam engine slowed to a crawl. She started avoiding mirrors altogether.

Things were different with Sam than they had been with Finn. With Finn she had genuinely tried to care at times, had tried to force herself to love him with every ounce of strength she had. But she never could. The best she could ever come up with was something vaguely like a brotherly appreciation for the boy. But with Sam she was much more apathetic. She wasn't exactly sure why that was but she found that it didn't really bother her. He pushed for something more physical and she had no problem shutting him down, he offered her a ridiculous speech and a meaningless ring and she accepted them both with a show. She felt more her parents' daughter now, concerned only with image and not feeling a thing, than she ever had before. Things continued to blur; classes, back flips, prayer meetings, choreographed dance routines, everything choreographed, her whole life a dance created and rigorously taught to her years ago and when the music played she had no choice but to follow it. Through all of it there was only one constant, the same ever changing, unpredictable constant that her life had seemed to revolve around for as long as she could remember. Rachel. Just flashes of her in the blur, like a sign you drive past too quickly to really make out any of the words. Rachel in some disgusting toddler's sweater, Rachel in leather and heavy makeup, Rachel in Finn's arms, Rachel in tears. Sometimes, when she allowed herself a few moments to really look at the girl, Quinn swore she felt the engine try to gather speed but it always quickly faded. When Rachel and Finn finally disintegrated she felt relieved. She wasn't entirely sure where it came from or exactly who she was relieved for, all she knew was that it seemed to lessen the feeling of an ever-present noose around her neck.

The next thing she knew it was a few days before the cheerleading Regionals and the blur cleared as everything started trying to crash against her at once. Time suddenly seemed to drag instead, and she couldn't help but notice everything. She felt overwhelmed, suffocated by all of it, like she'd been asleep the last five months and couldn't stand what she'd suddenly woken up to. It was the reason why she'd called out Coach Sylvester in front of the entire squad. She hadn't even wanted to set foot in the gym that day, doing that ridiculous routine with fire and BMX bikes for God's sake. And then the football players were all invading her space in the choir room and everyone was yelling and acting like children. But then Rachel and Puck started singing and for the first time in months Quinn actually let herself watch Rachel's performance. She let the girl's voice wash over her like she used to back when she fell from grace and she _could_ watch Rachel because no one was watching _her_. And, just like before, she found herself almost amazed by it, the sound, the talent, and something else she never could put her finger on because she never allowed herself to even acknowledge it after the last note faded from the air. And when it was over and the fight broke out she started to panic. She rushed out of the room, feeling like she couldn't stand another second in that building. The nearly five minute walk to her locker and then her car was spent with her head screaming that it wasn't too late, to quit the fucking Cheerios if she didn't want to be one and to break it off with Sam if she didn't give a shit about him. There was still plenty of time to be whoever she wanted to be and she could start it all right now, this very second. By the time she walked through the front door of her home she was going through the new Cheerios routine in her head and texting Sam to take her out that night. If there was anything Quinn Fabray was good at it was talking herself into bad decisions.

Then all of the adults went crazy and suddenly there was some kind of war on between Glee and Football and the Cheerios and Quinn was going to have to make a decision. She honestly didn't know which side she'd pick until Rachel called her out, casually stating that 'obviously Quinn would choose the Cheerios' and it made her breath catch in her throat just long enough for Finn to rush to her defense before she could speak for herself. She hated him for it. The days passed and she did what was expected, what she knew how to do, turned her back on the people that might actually care. Then she was standing beside that idiotic cannon listening to Finn give what she was sure he thought was an incredibly inspirational little speech. And it was, kind of, just not in the way he thought. "If you didn't think it would hurt your reputation which would you choose?" Rachel's face flashed through her mind, that disappointed, hurt expression she'd seen directed at her too many times over the years, that somehow always managed to break straight through her walls and stop mere inches from her heart. And every time it got just a little bit closer. She thought if she saw that look on Rachel's face one more time it might just kill her. "I know you, and you don't think you are, but you're strong enough to do this." The steam engine roared to life and she smiled. He was right, she could do this. Fuck everyone else, this was _her_ life. And as soon as the music stopped Rachel ran to Finn, everyone screamed and celebrated while she stood to the side and watched, no one even glancing her way. Even Sam ignored her to high five and chest bump his idiot football buddies. And she remembered what it was like to be alone emotionally _and _physically. At least as the Popular Head Cheerleader she had people around her, bodies that she could pretend actually cared. And she remember that Rachel wanted nothing to do with her, that the girl was only civil to her because that was simply who she was. But if it came down to it and Quinn was trapped in the same burning building as Rachel's Barbara Striesand DVDs she didn't really like her odds of survival. But it was too late now to go back to the Cheerios. She had been rash and stupid and made a fool out of the coach in front of the entire squad. She watched the rest of the game and cheered and smiled with the other girls but inside she was panicking. What the hell had she been thinking? She couldn't do this, she wasn't strong, Fabrays were notoriously weak they were just excellent actors. It felt like everything was starting to spiral out of control, but not like it had last year. She'd still be Quinn Fabray, still beautiful, still rich, still dating a quarterback even if he wasn't The Quarterback. She needed to get back to last summer but she had no idea how to do it. Then the game was over and Finn came ambling over to the sidelines giving her that goofy grin and she figured it out. Last year she had cheated, just once, and everything had come tumbling down. Maybe it could happen again. She could tear it all down and build it back up the right way. So the next day, in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see, she walked up to Finn and she kissed him. She figured it would be on Jacob's blog within an hour. But it wasn't. So she went further, pushed things more. And she was thankful that Finn never thought to question her motives. Finn, who always wanted what he couldn't have, who was so overly self-assured that any girl would want him, who saw fireworks when he kissed her. There was only one person that made her see fireworks and it wasn't him. But fireworks were dangerous. One Fourth of July when they were kids her sister had lit one the wrong way and the sparks had shot back onto her hand and burned her, she still had the scar from it. Fireworks were chaotic and unpredictable, they were loud and explosive, and if you got too close they could badly damage you. Scar you for life.

For a while it looked like everything might work out, with Santana's meddling and the Mono, but she'd underestimated Sam's drive to stay with her. She knew he wasn't as big of an idiot as he pretended to be but he chose denial instead of the truth. And Finn seemed perfectly content to remain her dirty little secret. So again she stepped it up, toying with both of their heads, back and forth from one to the other until finally Sam grew tired of it. He confronted her in the hallway and she prepared herself for a scene, for a screaming match, for _something_. She played the part of the grieving girlfriend, sad and apologetic. But nothing happened. Just a quiet exit as he moved on to be Santana's substitute for the girl _she_ couldn't have. She had been expecting a blow up, a public disaster, something to rip apart the foundation and leave things dangerously unsteady, but all she got was a headshake and a sad grin. She felt almost devastated as he walked away from her. Sam was supposed to be the trigger, the first nail in Quinn Fabray's coffin, her fucking _salvation_ for God's sake. But as the hallway started to clear out around her she realized how ridiculous that sounded. There was a hell of a difference between sleeping with your long-term boyfriend's best friend and then winding up pregnant with his kid, and going behind the back of some boy you'd been dating a few months, who could barely remember your middle name, to make out with your ex. She had been grasping at straws, trying to make sense out of her senseless acts, trying to convince herself that she could achieve the impossible. That she could be someone better than who she'd been raised to be, someone worthy of _her_. So when Finn appeared at her side whispering about meeting up behind Breadstix later she just stood there and stared at him, remembering how easy things had been at the beginning of last year. Things were always simple with Finn, mind numbingly so, and she was tired of all the chaos and complexities of trying to be someone new. She was tired and defeated and she just wanted things to be simple again. So she smiled up at Finn and told him to be there at eight. Later that day, after Glee Club where she watched Rachel stand up and try to help only to be mocked by her teammates and condescended to by her teacher, she came around the corner to find Rachel and Finn in the middle of the hall. She moved back out of sight and listened as Finn assured the girl he was completely on her side but didn't stand up for her because 'it wouldn't have made a difference anyway' and she rolled her eyes. Everyone knew that she was manipulative and would rather take the easiest way out of any situation, but as she stood there listening to Finn telling Rachel that he would always be on her side, as long as no one else knew about it, and stringing the girl along, using her own emotions against her, Quinn thought that Finn had picked up a great deal more from her in their time together than even she had realized. She finally stepped around the corner just in time to see the look on Rachel's face as Finn walked away from her. She was almost beaming, happier than Quinn could remember seeing her in weeks, and Quinn felt a crude mixture of nausea and hatred for the oaf of a boy walking toward her. She made things official with Finn that night. And as she lay awake in bed hours later, reassuring herself over and over that she had done it because things were easier with Finn, because she wanted to get back to the way things had been before, she couldn't seem to stop that little voice in the back of her mind from whispering that she had done it simply to occupy Finn and save Rachel from him.

She shut down again for a few weeks, even got drunk for the first time since her world ending night with Puck, and everything stayed the same just like it always had. Again she found herself absolutely uninterested in what was happening around her. She played the parts she was expected to play when she was expected to play them and she did it with ease but she constantly felt disconnected from it all. She remembers thinking one day that maybe she was like that guy in that one movie, completely convinced that he was a human but really he was just another machine. And then Santana, of all people, tore her world apart. She stood in the hallway and listened intently as Santana stood ten feet away from her, pouring her soul out to Brittany with tears streaming down her face, telling the girl that she was in love with her and that she didn't want anyone else. Self-loathing suddenly coursed through every inch of her body. Here was Santana Lopez, arguably the biggest bitch in McKinley, who practically had the emotional capacity of a fucking Mord'Sith, accepting who she was and fighting for what she wanted, pleading for it. And Quinn felt sick and pathetic. She was supposed to be better than Santana, in all aspects of life, but here she was doing what Quinn had never been able to come even close to doing. Tears burned Quinn's eyes and her knees felt weak. She had to get the hell away from there. But just as she moved to close her locker and walk away she heard it, the sickening sound of Brittany 'letting Santana down easy,' of her choosing a boy she barely knew over the girl she loved. And they _were _in love, Quinn knew it, had watched it happen over the years. And if Santana couldn't even get the girl who was in love with her, then what chance in hell did Quinn have with the girl who hated her? She took a deep breath and steadied herself before walking down the hall as she felt the steam engine finally come to a complete stop.

A few weeks later she stood just outside the doorway of the choir room and watched Rachel serenade Finn with some ridiculous song. She saw the emotion in Rachel's eyes as she looked at him, hope and longing and adoration, and a part of her hated him for it. She'd never understood exactly what Rachel saw in the boy. Sure, he was decent enough she supposed, and there were certainly worse choices than Finn Hudson, but there were also much, much better ones. Not that she knew where the hell you could find them but they had to be out there somewhere or Quinn feared the entire planet might be doomed. So as she watched them, sitting and making mooneyes at each other, she made a decision. She couldn't have Rachel, she knew that and she'd made her peace with it, but maybe she could protect the girl from getting her heart broken again. So as the week went on she tried to connect with Rachel, get the girl to trust her just enough so that when she tried to ward her away from Finn it would be seen as an act of sincerity and not one of competition. But of course, as was every experience Quinn had with Rachel, things got skewed and Quinn lost control. She wound up screaming at the girl, practically begging her to get the fuck out of this town, to get away from all these people, especially herself, before they completely destroyed her. Rachel walked away from her with tears in her eyes for maybe the hundredth time since the day they met all those years ago and Quinn felt hollow and broken and ashamed. At least Finn didn't really understand what he was doing to Rachel, couldn't see how truly messed up and dangerous it was. But Quinn had made a sport of torturing Rachel over the years, using the girl's suffering to try and alleviate her own. And even when she was trying to do a good thing, the _right _thing, all she could do was inflict even more pain.

And now, as Quinn stands backstage and watches Rachel sing about how she's never good enough, how she never quite measures up, how she can't ever win for losing, she feels the breath get stolen from her lungs as she closes her eyes and shakes her head. The last thing she thinks before walking out onto the stage on unsteady legs is that she's almost positive that she can't survive another year of this.


End file.
